


Desert Rose and Black Lily

by scumpoet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bob is a good robo, F/F, Lesbian, Ouihaw, Talon - Freeform, deadlock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24720814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scumpoet/pseuds/scumpoet
Summary: Ouihaw Fanfiction. Widowmaker gets a mission. Ashe shoots and drinks. Maybe someone will kiss? Keep reading to find out.
Relationships: Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Kudos: 10





	Desert Rose and Black Lily

**Author's Note:**

> Hey leave me a comment or kudos. Tell me what you like or want to see. Read my other Jesse McCree/Gabriel Reyes work, “in this house we ship McReyes” for more smut.

Ashe let out a sigh. The desert had been hotter than normal this past week. Everyone was sweaty and irritable, more than usual that is. Deadlock was in the process of signing a treaty with their rival gang, the Scorpions. This would be the first time in Deadlock’s history where a problem was not solved in a shootout. Tensions were already incredibly high already, the heat wave only added to the volatile situation.

Amelie pursed her lips. This was bad news. Talon had “invested” large sums of money into the powerful Scorpions. Peace would mean that the Scorpions would not require Talons blood money to run. Peace would mean loss of profit. That wouldn’t do, now would it? So Talon ordered Widowmaker to kill Deadlock’s notorious leader and pin it on the Scorpions. For Amelie, it was just another assignment.

“Shut up alla y’all! Givin’ me a headache with all this damn complaining! Let’s end here and deal with this shit tomorrow. Get outta my office!” yelled Ashe. Five hours of deliberation and arguing had left her nerves shot. She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Tequila and poured a hearty shot. Throwing it back, she felt the liquor warm her belly. “Goddamn heat, makin me sweat off my eyeliner.” she looked into the mirror on her wall. Ashe grabbed her hat and shotgun and headed to the shooting range.

Lining up her shot, Ashe peered through her shotgun’s sights. Three shots fired, and the glass bottles shattered. Under her breath she said, “Now that’s more like it.” No one else was in the shooting range tonight. The muggy heat felt oppressive and had most people sluggish and reclusive. Not Ashe though. It was if the heat itself flowed through her body, making her feel restless. She needed to release all the built up tension from the days arguments. Coming to a peaceful agreement between two of the most violent gangs in the New Mexican desert was no easy feat. Both sides were stubborn and demanding, but ultimately wanted to make it work. Shooting things was Ashe’s favorite way to burn off excess energy, tonight was no different.

Amelie could sense her target up ahead. Tonight she was doing reconnaissance, trying to secretly learn more about Deadlock’s leader. A grimy beat up sign pointed the way toward a shooting range. She could hear the sounds of shots firing and shells falling. Gunpowder hung in the air. Slipping in the shadows, Amelie worked her way closer to the door. It hung slightly ajar, looking through she was surprised to see that a young woman with white hair shooting bottles effortlessly. Talon would be shocked to hear that their information was faulty. Amelie made a mental note to talk to Sombra about this. They had believed that Deadlock’s leader was an old crusty cowboy, but here stood their leader Ashe “Calamity” Caledonia. The sight took Amelie’s breath away.

Dress shirt unbuttoned revealed a black lace bra peaking through. Tie loose around her pale neck, fancy black cowboy boots dusted with desert sand. In rapid succession, Ashe took 3 shots leaving perfect holes in each target. Amelie could tell that the woman before her was deadly, underestimating her would be certain death. Adjustments will have to be made if this assassination was going to work. While Deadlock was just some desert gang, their security and man power was quite advanced. This was probably the closest the sniper would ever get to her target. She sighed, maybe in a different life things could have been different. Admiring the stranger before her, Amelie clicked her heals and walked into the night.

Laughing as she reloaded her clip, Ashe felt significantly calmer now. Nothing cooled her off like shooting down targets. Smirking she said to herself, “Now that’s how you get it done. Think it’s time to get a drink, worked up quite a thirst.” Grabbing her hat on the way, she walked out of the shooting range. The night air felt like a blessing on her hot skin. Down the street was Deadlock’s saloon, named The Gas Station. Passing a line of hover cycles, she pushed open the door and sat at the bar. “Howdy, Boss. How’s the evening treating you?” asked a slim Latino woman. Ashe sighed, “Better once I get a drink, Vero.” Smiling, the gang’s best bartender set down the glass she was cleaning. “The usual?” Vero asked, reaching for the tequila. Sliding a wad of cash across the bar Ashe replied, “You know it. Thanks.” Vero set three shot glasses down and poured effortlessly. “I’ll never get tired of watching you do that, sweetheart.” said Ashe winking. Lifting a small glass, she took the shot in one gulp. Warmth pooled in her belly, loosening her tight muscles. “Ahh... that’s the stuff. How’s it been round here?” Ashe asked, reaching for her 2nd shot. Vero looked around the bar suspiciously, “Word is that Deadlock is thinking of beefing up security tomorrow. While they want to confirm the alliance, they’re not taking things lightly.” Ashe laughed, “Good thing I got Bob to watch my back! I’m not too worried, Scorpions need this more than we do. No way they’d fuck this up.” Taking another shot, her worries melted away. Looking concerned, Vero whispered, “Whatever you say, Boss. Just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Ashe took her final shot, “Don’t worry bout me, Veronica. I got this all under control.” Blowing her a kiss, Ashe got up and made her way back to her apartment in Deadlock’s headquarters.

By the time Ashe got home, she was fully drunk and giggling uncontrollably. Closing the door behind her she called, “BOb!” The giant robot came out into the living area, looking at her with his green glowing eyes. “Tablet please,” she said between hiccups, laying down on the suede sofa. Her hat fell onto the floor, “Bob, boots please.” The robot butler handed Ashe her holo tablet and proceeded to remove her boots. Flipping through her messages, her eyes landed on an email with no subject. “Wha-?” she said opening the file. It was only a single line. It read, “Tomorrow you will be assassinated.” Below it listed an address, Ashe knew it was the grimy motel that the Scorpions were staying at, Room 35. At the bottom of the email was a cryptic purple skull. Suddenly the screen crackled with purple electricity and let out a sounds like distorted laughter, “What the FUCK?” Ashe yelled. She screamed as it shocked her hand, dropping it to the floor. The screen was black and it looked like it was fried. In shock, she thought to herself, “maybe... I don’t have this under control.”

<3

The hot sun beat down on the New Mexican desert. The morning felt long, as Widowmaker waited for the agreement between the two gangs was finalized. Members were milling about the Deadlock compound. Soon the two leaders would announce the success of their treaty to the public. All Amelie had to do was wait and pull a trigger. She was holed up in a disgusting motel, rifle peaking out the window. To pass the time Widowmaker thought of all the places she would rather be. In the ballet studio in downtown Paris, a white sand beach of Greece, a vibrant market in Dorado, her grand mansion with her long dead husband, or a verdant garden lush with lilies. As the day worn on, more and more gang members accumulated outside the base. It looked like things were starting to heat up. Adjusting her rifle she gazed through the scope. A woman with white hair and an old man walked into the clearing, the time was now. Gang members cheered as their two leaders shook hands. Finger on the trigger, Amelie felt the rush of adrenaline flow through her. Lining up the shot perfectly, she aimed for Ashe’s head. “Au revoir, mon amour.”


End file.
